


Thank You, Harry Potter

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-24
Updated: 2006-02-24
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Harry puts a spell on Ron and Hermione that will only fall away after they admit the truth to each other





	Thank You, Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: A/N: Merry Christmas to [](http://belovedranger.livejournal.com/profile)[**belovedranger**](http://belovedranger.livejournal.com/) Thank you to The Giant Squid for the beta!  


* * *

Ron pounded on the door of his bedroom until his hand hurt. He was going to kill Harry—what was he thinking locking the two of them in together like this?  
  
“Listen, you poufy bastard!” Ron snarled against the door. “I’m going to tell Mum just exactly where you’ve been spending your nights!”  
  
“Go right ahead,” Harry’s voice taunted from the other side of the sealed door, “and I’ll let the whole world know just what you’ve been saying in your sleep. I’m bloody well tired of all the foreplay between you and Hermione, and the tension is making you madder than a kneazle in heat.”  
  
  
Ron could almost see him leaning against the wall, a Slytherin smirk playing on his lips, and the smugness in Harry’s tone drove Ron to hit the door harder. His hand hurt from beating the door, but one way or another, Ron was going to get out of this room without confessing anything about his dreams.  
  
Hermione had been mostly silent since Harry had hexed them, but now she joined Ron in yelling at Harry.  
  
“Harry, you half-witted flobberworm. When I get out of here I’m having a nice long talk with Mrs. Weasley about your defilement of her only daughter,” Hermione shouted, and her hand flew to her mouth.  
  
“Defilement?” Ron snarled. “What have you and Ginny been doing? Bloody Wanker!”  
  
Hermione’s eyes were wide with horror, and she held her hand over her lips and stared at Ron .  
  
“Ron…” she started, and he met her eyes. “Don’t talk anymore.”  
  
“What have Harry and Ginny been doing that I’ve been kept in the dark about?”  
  
Hermione lowered her hand from her mouth and she bit her lip, trying to refrain from saying anything else. Ron watched her struggle with her own body, until the truth finally won out.  
  
“They’ve been shagging in every room of the house, caught them in the attic last week, and I covered for them when we were at the pond yesterday.”  
  
Ron felt his face heat his ears had to be bright red and he threw his entire body at the door.  
  
“You bloody bastard, lousy, no good, best mate,” Ron shouted, and clapped his hand over his own mouth. “I’m glad you and Ginny are together,” he blurted out, and fought to put his hand back over his mouth.  
  
Harry chuckled outside the door and called out, “I see you two have figured out the hex I put on you. The door is charmed to unlock, and the wards will fall when and if you start telling each other the truth.”  
  
Hermione stalked across the room and Ron watched in disbelief as she threw herself on his bed and buried her face in his pillow. The pillow muffled her shouts, but Ron could swear he heard her shriek something about unmitigated bastard and bloody hexes. He didn’t even know that she knew some of the words she shouted and he couldn’t help but laugh when she threatened to remove Harry’s toger with a pair of tweezers.  
  
She rolled over on her back and glared at him. He tried desperately not to notice the way her summer dress had bunched up around her thighs, the way her pale skin seemed to glisten with a light sheen of sweat, and he tried not to imagine all the licking the inside of those very thighs as he made his way to the promise land.  
  
“You don’t seem to be very upset about this turn of events.” She pointed her finger at him and shook it. “Do you have any concept of what Harry has done?”  
  
Ron ran a hand through his hair and tried to push back the burgeoning erection that would soon be tenting the jean shorts he was wearing. He pictured Dumbledore and McGonagall shagging on the professor’s table in the Great Hall, and when he finally regained control of his body, he simply shrugged his shoulders and crossed the room to stand next to the bed.  
  
“Budge over a bit, would you, Hermione?” he muttered, and she scooted over as he lay down next to her and stared at the ceiling. “I reckon he’s locked us in here, put a Silencing Charm on the room, and is off shagging Ginny some place where I can’t hurt him.”  
  
“Honestly, Ron.” She smacked his chest with the back of her hand. “You didn’t add the part where he used a highly illegal truth hex because he thinks we have hidden feelings for each other.”  
  
Ron bit his lip hard, willing himself not to say anything, and was mortified when he blurted out, “I do have hidden feelings.” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “I fancy you quite a bit and the fact that you’re lying here in my bed is almost more than I can handle.”  
  
“What?” Hermione breathed next to him. “What was that?”  
  
Ron clasped both hands over his mouth and his body twitched as he fought this unnatural reaction to say exactly what was in his mind and heart. One hand fell away and he frantically tried to lift it back to his lips, but Hermione snagged it under her leg as she rolled onto her side to face him.  
  
“You fancy me?”  
  
His fingers flexed against the slightly damp skin of her calf and his other hand fell away.  
  
“Of course I fancy you,” he muttered, and bit his tongue, but the words wouldn’t quit spilling out of his mouth. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since you hugged me in third year. In fact, I still feel the way your breast were pressed against my chest. Every woman I meet pales in comparison to you, and you don’t fancy me at all.”  
  
He rolled onto his side to face her and laid his hand at her waist. He searched her gaze for some acknowledgement, a hint of disgust, and his breath caught in his throat as she shifted closer to him. The smell of her perfume was familiar, almost comforting, and he wondered where he knew it from. His entire body trembled as she lifted her hand and ran her thumb along his bottom lip.  
  
“I do so fancy you.”  
  
Her fingers were splayed against his cheek and Ron couldn’t resist darting his tongue out to touch the tip of her thumb. He watched her eyes darken and his fingers caressed her calf in a slow circle. There was something building in the air between them, something sultry and heated, and Ron could almost see the little burst of electricity flowing between them.  
  
“Do not,” he murmured, and shifted his body closer to hers. “You don’t dream of me like I do about you.”  
  
She leaned into his body, and he continued to trace the damp skin of her calf with his fingertips. The hand on her waist tightened slightly, and he bit back a moan when their bodies came into full contact.  
  
“I do dream about you…” Hermione whispered. “All the time…more so since we left Hogwarts two years ago.”  
  
“Do not.” Ron shifted his head on the pillow. He could feel her breath coming in hot little spurts against his lips; her thumb was wreaking havoc on his senses, and his hand moved around her waist to rest on the swell of her arse.  
  
“Do too,” she sighed as she shifted closer, moving her hand from his face, and threading through the long hair at the nape of his neck. Her thumb rotated against his flesh, and chills ran up and down his spine.  
  
“Do…” He shifted so their lips were inches from each other, their breath mingling and combining in the space between them, and his eyes darted back and forth between her lips and eyes. He watched, his cock hardening completely, as the tip of her pink tongue wetted her lips. “…not.”  
  
“You’re such a Prat.”  
  
She licked her lips again, and he felt her tremble against him as she slid her leg over his thigh and brought their bodies in alignment. She shifted restlessly, rocking against him, and he bit his lip against the onslaught of sensation that was building in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“You’re…” He swallowed hard and rocked against her, “…a bloody know-it-all…”  
  
“Am not,” she moaned as they rocked together. Her eyes were dark with desire and he felt her fingernails dig into his shoulder. The pain was erotic, galvanizing, and he took a deep breath. Everything about her was taunting him—the curve of her lip, the swell of her breasts against his chest, and the feeling of her hips meeting his as they thrust forward.  
  
“Are too,” he groaned as he kneaded the firm cheeks of her arse, and the last of his control broke. He closed the small distance between their lips and parted hers with his tongue. He swallowed her whimper as he explored her mouth; their teeth clacked together, but neither seemed to notice, and when her tongue brushed against his, it was his turn to moan.  
  
Tongues met, brushed, retreated, and came back for more. The temperature in the room was stifling and it heated the blood in Ron’s veins. Her scent, her taste, her moans were driving him to the brink and when she rolled onto her back, he followed. Her legs fell apart, and he settled between them and rocked against her. Her hips rose and fell in counterpoint to his and her hands tangled in his hair.  
  
“Hermione…” His breath was ragged as he broke the kiss. “Why did you sleep with that Prat?”  
  
Her hands tugged at his head, trying to bring his lips back to hers, and she was blinking back tears.  
  
“I was lonely…I needed to feel like a woman again and you were with someone that night…” Her tears spilled over and trickled down her cheek. “I wasn’t going to wait forever Ron, and I saw you and Sally-Anne in the cloakroom.”  
  
He followed each tear with his lips, darting his tongue out to lap them away, and he shook as he held himself still.  
  
“I didn’t…” he murmured. “I didn’t think I was worthy. Look at what you’ve done and I’m just an Unspeakable. You’ve made sweeping changes in the Ministry, you’re an advocate for Lycanthrope welfare, and I’m just Ron…Just Ron.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes. “I’ve not slept with anyone in the last two years. Not since seeing you go home with him. Every woman I meet pales in comparison to you.”  
  
“I haven’t either,” she murmured, stroking her hands down his back. “All I wanted was you and you are more than just Ron. You’re everything—brave, loyal, and a brilliant strategist. You are my heart—Zacharias was just a body to keep me warm.”  
  
He braced himself on his palms and looked down at her. He was on the edge of something; he could feel it in his bones, and the last of his defenses crumbled away as he looked deep into her eyes.  
  
“Do you want to be with me, Hermione?” He bit his lip. “Do you want me? Do you want to love each other? Do you love me the way I love you?”  
  
His heart raced and he could feel his palms sweating despite the comforter underneath them. Her eyes searched his, her hands trembled against his back, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.  
  
“Yes…I want to be with you.” She slid her hands under his t-shirt. “I want you so much that I ache with it. I want to love you, make love to you, and I love you more than _Hogwarts, A History.”_  
  
Gold light surrounded them as the hex fell away and Ron dimly heard the sounds of the wards crash down around them. He felt Hermione reach for her wand, sliding it out of the holster on her thigh, and she waved it several times around the room before tossing it to the nightstand.  
  
“Now if we’re clear, Ronald…” Her hands clutched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to her, and she gave him a rather mischievous grin. “I love you, you love me, and I want you to take me. Right here, right now, and be sure to do it properly or I’ll make you revise.”  
  
He arched an eyebrow at her, and sat up to tug his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it behind him and brought his hands to the neckline of her dress.  
  
“Is that a challenge?” He trailed a finger along the side of her neck and saw her skin break out in gooseflesh. “Because I fully intend to make you call out my name…repeatedly.”  
  
Her hands slid across his chest, her thumbs circling his nipples, and she smirked when he moaned.  
  
“I’m fully prepared to let you try.”  
  
Her hands explored his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach, with each brush of her fingertips his control began to snap. Her finger slid under the waistband of his jean shorts and his sanity spun out of control. He placed his hands on the neckline of her dress and pulled hard, tearing the thin material down the middle. She whimpered, eyes wide, and his hands cupped her breasts through the white lace of her bra.  
  
“Oh my…”  
  
He was frantic in his need to feel her bare skin against his. He struggled with the clasp on her bra for a moment before unclasping it with a triumphant gasp. He brushed the fabric aside, running the back of his hands over her nipples, and without warning, he bent to run his tongue over the tip. Her back arched as he tweaked her nipple with one hand while the other pulled her knickers from her body. The sound of fabric ripping filled his senses and he boldly slid his fingers between her folds.  
  
“So wet,” he whispered as he nipped the swell of her breast before closing his mouth over her nipple. He suckled the flesh into a hard point as he dipped one finger into her pussy. He released her with a pop, and slowly slid his finger out and brought it to his lips. He sucked her essence from his finger and kissed her, his tongue darted against hers, and she explored his mouth thoroughly, capturing the hint of her own taste on his tongue.  
  
“Ron…” she moaned against his lips. “I need…”  
  
Ron's mouth moved down her jaw, over the soft flesh of her neck, and his tongue laved her pulse point. His hands were trailing up and down her sides, and her hands tangled his hair. Hermione guided his movements as he trailed kisses over her breasts and then over the soft swell of her stomach. He lingered there, grazing the soft flesh with his teeth, and her hips rose up as if to beckon him further south. Ron scooted down the bed and parted her legs further, dipping his head to trail his tongue up and down her inner thighs, and finally her parted her folds with his fingers. He blew lightly on her exposed clit and her hips arched off the bed.  
  
“You need my mouth, Hermione.” He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. “You want my mouth on you?”  
  
“Please…” She pressed her hips up and tried to push his head down.  
  
“Say it, Hermione.” He blew on her clit again. “Say you want me to lick you, to make love to you with my mouth,” He moaned as her hands tightened in his hair. “Tell me to make you come.”  
  
“Yes…please yes.”  
  
“Say it.” he demanded. “Or do only naughty girls talk like that?”  
  
She lifted her hips again, tantalizing him, and her voice shook with need as she whimpered, “Lick my clit.” Her fingers trembled against his scalp and his cock throbbed in response. “Make me come.”  
  
He licked his lips once and groaned. “I thought you’d never ask.”  
  
Ron dipped his head, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue, before grazing it with his teeth. Hermione’s other leg came over his shoulder and she pressed her hips upwards. He sucked her clit between his lips before trailing his tongue to her entrance and delving inside. Hermione’s nails were raking his scalp and the noises she was making sent fire directly to Ron’s cock. He moved with her, his shorts biting painfully into his erection, but he couldn’t get enough of her taste.  
  
“Ron…god…Ron…” Hermione breathed as he continued to taste her. “Please…”  
  
He slid two fingers inside her, his tongue still lapping at her clit, and he held her hips down with his free hand. He looked up to see her head tossing back and forth on the pillows. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips full and red, and he felt her clenching around his fingers. He crooked them slightly, hitting her g-spot, and her whimpers turned to screams.  
  
He stayed with her, lapping her gently as she came, and when her legs fell from his shoulders, he slowly kissed his way up her body. She pulled at the nape of his neck, tugging him down so that she could kiss him, and his cock twitched when he realized she could taste herself on his lips.  
  
“Hermione,” he breathed against her lips. “I need…”  
  
He was surprised when she was able to flip him over and even more surprised when she straddled him. She rubbed against him and he could feel the heat from her wet pussy through his shorts. He moaned and fought to keep his eyes open.  
  
“You need?” Hermione purred as she traced her fingertip along the seam of his lips. “What do you need?”  
  
Ron’s eyes flew open and he gazed up at her. The passion in her eyes shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d always suspected that there was passion inside her and it was driving him mad being the focus of it. She looked wanton and wild sitting astride him, and the look of lust in her eyes, and the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth to keep from moaning, was almost more than Ron could handle.  
  
“Everywhere,” he whimpered. “Anywhere…please…”  
  
She shifted back on his legs and slid her hands across his shoulders; the tips of her fingers felt like electric shocks against his skin, and he bit his lower lip as she touched him. He wanted to keep control over himself, wanted her to have the same opportunity to explore his body as he had hers, but his own need to claim her was quickly winning out.  
  
“Like this?” Her hands trailed over his chest, raking his nipples, and she bent her head and tugged one between her teeth before laving it with the tip of her tongue.  
  
“Blimey,” he whispered. “Yes…More…”  
  
Her tongue trailed over the muscles of his abdomen, her teeth grazing his skin, and when she pressed an open mouth kiss to the front of his shorts, his hips arched off the bed.  
  
“More?” Hermione’s voice was husky as the tips of her fingers traced the outline of his erection, before sliding up to waistband of his shorts. “More?”  
  
He nodded, unable to speak, and lifted his hips as she carefully worked the shorts passed his erection. She tossed them over her shoulder and gave him a wicked grin as her hands ran up and down his thighs. Her fingertips grazed his balls, but she didn’t touch him where he needed it most. She was driving him mad, teasing him, and he dimly thought he might die from too much pleasure.  
  
“Perhaps…” She licked her lips. “…you’d like me to touch you here?”  
  
She ran her finger up the underside of his cock before raising her hand to her lips. She licked her palm, wetting it, and he growled as she lowered it to his shaft. She stroked him slowly from tip to base, sliding her thumb over the head of his cock, and he whimpered when she raised her hand to her mouth again to lick the precum from her thumb.  
  
“You’re killing me, Hermione,” he growled. “Touch me, damn it.”  
  
His mind went blank when she took him in her mouth. He was expecting her hand, and when the warmth of her mouth closed around his cock, he arched his hips off the bed. His toes curled, his fingers gripped the Orange Chudley Cannons blanket that covered his bed, and he let out a low, tortured moan.  
  
Her hands were sliding up and down his thighs, her lips were tight around his erection, and when she sucked the base of his cock, Ron saw stars behind his eyes. He slid one hand into her hair and lifted his head so he could watch her. Her cheeks hollowed as she slid her mouth up and down his length. The sight of his cock sliding between her pink lips was one of the most erotic visions Ron had ever seen.  
  
“Fuck…” He ran his hand through her hair. “Better than I ever imagined.”  
  
She lifted her mouth from his cock and arched her eyebrow. “Don’t curse.”  
  
She ran her tongue around the tip of his shaft and he reached down to pull her up. He lifted his hips and his cock slid through her folds, bumped her clit, and she whimpered as their eyes met.  
  
“I need…” He nipped at her bottom lip. “I need to be inside you.”  
  
He thrust his hips upwards again, sliding through her heat, and claimed her lips with his own. They parted instantly and he realized he could taste both of them on his tongue. The knowledge was enough to snap what was left of Ron’s self-control. He rolled them so that he was pinning her to the bed with his weight, and his tongue continued to plunder her mouth. Her nails were raking up and down his back, her hips rotated against his, and he finally broke the kiss to draw a breath.  
  
“Now.” She reached between them and guided his cock to her entrance. “I’m on a potion.”  
  
Ron nodded, his body trembling as the tip of his cock slid inside her, and he slowly buried himself to the hilt. Their eyes met and Ron began to move. He tried to go slowly, but she was so tight and hot that his brain was no longer cooperating with the needs of his body. Ron lifted her hips off the bed, changing the angle of his thrusting, and he began driving inside her hard and fast. Her hands entwined with his on her hips and Hermione clenched his fingers tightly. Her moans were fueling his lust and he thought he might go mad because of it.  
  
Their mingled moans and cries filled his small room at the Burrow, and the sound of their skin slapping together as Ron drove inside Hermione’s tight pussy fueled his desire. A sheen of sweat coated both their skin, the smell of sex was surrounding them, and Ron could feel the heat welling deep in he belly.  
  
“So close…” he growled as he plunged inside her heat. “Come with me, Hermione.”  
  
His body shook with the effort of holding back. He grasped her hand and slid it to her center where she began rubbing her clit. He growled as he watched her fingers sliding over her wetness; she was tightening around him, and with another flick of her fingers over her clit she came screaming his name.  
  
He lifted her fingers to his mouth, sucked them clean, and he felt her pulse around him a second time. She clenched his cock so tightly that his balls tightened and rode up. White light exploded in front of his eyes, and the heat in his belly spread outwards. He fell over the edge behind her, chanting her name as he spilled deep in her pussy, and his body shook violently.  
  
She stayed with him, milking his cock until he was spent, and they collapsed together on the bed. They lay there joined for several moments before Ron tried to slide away.  
  
“Stay,” she whispered. “I like the way you feel on top of me.”  
  
Ron sighed and nuzzled the curve of her neck. Her hands slid through his hair and he lifted his head to brush his lips against hers.  
  
“Hermione,” he grinned. “Did you know I use to dream about this? Having you in my room.”  
  
His arms trembled as he slowly slid out of her, causing her to moan. He rolled onto his side, tangling their legs together, and he cradled her against his chest.  
  
“You did?” Hermione pressed a kiss to the middle of his chest. “When?”  
  
“The first time,” Ron said, brushing her curls away from her face, “was the night before the Quidditch World Cup in fourth year. Harry was here and Merlin, he took the mickey out of me the next day.”  
  
“Why?” Hermione’s fingers trailed up and down his arm.  
  
“Because,” He felt his face heating up. “I err…had my first wet dream that night and apparently talked in my sleep.”  
  
“So that’s why you held your blanket up to your chest,” Hermione giggled. “When I woke you up.”  
  
“Yeah, bloody terrified I was.” Ron ran his hand through Hermione’s hair. “I was afraid you knew.”  
  
“I love you, Ron.” Hermione traced his lower lip with her fingertip. “I didn’t know…I didn’t even think you knew I was a girl.”  
  
“Oh I noticed you were a girl alright,” Ron grinned, and kissed the top of her head. “You developed breasts at the end of third year and you hugged me. Merlin, they were soft pressed against my chest. I was baffled by it…hell, to me, you were just Hermione, not someone with breasts.”  
  
“And now?” Hermione snuggled against him.  
  
“You’re the love of my life,” Ron said seriously. “I was wondering—would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”  
  
“You’re asking me out?” Hermione looked up at him. “After this?”  
  
Ron grinned. “Well, I wanted to show you I finally got the point.”


End file.
